


Ashen sheets of the morning after

by birbteef



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Banishment, Fallen Angel Aziraphale (Good Omens), Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Not Beta Read
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:20:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22133185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/birbteef/pseuds/birbteef
Summary: He opened his eyes to see Crowley staring at him. It would be obvious. In this large luxurious dark bed, surrounded by cold walls and unfeeling decor; The one beast that could understand him more than any other would have to watch as he fell. Of course."I do believe I'm about to be in for it." Aziraphale looked over to his partner. "You'll stay with me, won't you?"
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 149





	Ashen sheets of the morning after

**Author's Note:**

> Ofc I didn't proof read this

Aziraphale was falling. He knew as soon as he woke on the third day of the rest of their lives. It was a creeping horror that washed itself over his soul with long tight fingers to drag him lower under with each breath. 

He opened his eyes to see Crowley staring at him. It would be obvious. In this large luxurious dark bed, surrounded by cold walls and unfeeling decor; The one beast that could understand him more than any other would have to watch as he fell. Of course.

"I do believe I'm about to be in for it." Aziraphale looked over to his partner. You'll stay with me, won't you?"

"I'm sorry," Crowley whispered softly, tight lips pressing against the hair that was still angel soft. He said it again louder, "I'm sorry," wrapping long arms against aziraphale's body that was starting to shake in fear. And Again, "I'm sorry."

Aziraphale, in all his panic, simply held him back. No angel had fallen from Earth. Earth didn't even exist the last time an angel fell. How strange then was it that he could feel the fire starting to lick at him, yet there was no flame to be found. He held tighter to Crowley. "Dont- don't be sorry. You haven't done this it's, it's my fault. It's mine. You don't fall for someone else's sin."

"You haven't sinned!" Came Crowley's harsh and panicked reply. "Well, you have, but not enough for this! You're falling because they're bastards not because you've sinned!"

Aziraphale arched back sharply, scrambling away from the invisible fire starting to eat at his soul. He had sinned though, hadn't he? You don't fall for nothing. But he also knew he loved his God, and God didn't Damn those who loved them. 

"How does an angel fall then?" He finally gasped out. The black bedsheets beneath them were starting to bleach with the invisible heat. The fire licked through him sharp and fast, spreading from his noncorporeal wings to the rest of his body. 

Crowley pinned Aziraphale beneath himself in an attempt to ward off the jerking. "What do you mean? You're falling now! It's too late to do anything."

Aziraphale became instantly aware that Crowley was perhaps more freaked out about this than he was. He was freaked out, wasn't he? Or...no? The pain was horrible, it consumed his entire body but the love and grace remained untouched. Physically he was in an absolute torment but spiritually...emotionally even...he felt fine. He should have been more freaked out about it, he figured. 

"Can an angel fall- augh." He pressed his face into the pillow as he arched up in pain, "can, can I fall but remain in grace?"

Crowley simply stared at him In a sad horror. What did that even mean? "Aziraphale just-" he adjusted his grip so he wasn't hurting the angel "just ride it out. It doesn't take that long." 

Aziraphale felt something wet along his head and for a brief moment thought Crowley might be crying on him. He cracked open an eye to see those snake eyes wide and terrified, but not wet. At least not yet. A final rush of fire burned through him and then relented. 

He felt the barr from heaven like a heavy weight in his gut. It sat and coiled itself against his grace like a locked viper, eternally stuck in a strike pose waiting for the final kill. 

"I still have grace." He gasped, collapsing into the burned bed. "I'm not- I-." He felt his eyes start to tear up and he wiped at his face. His hand came back red with the corporations blood and he wasn't surprised. 

Crowley seemed absolutely bewildered and shifted closer to cup Aziraphale's face in his hands. "You...are not a demon. You're not a demon!" The elation that overcame the resident demon would have been terribly infectious given any other circumstance.

At present Aziraphale was simply fighting off painful aftershocks and trying to figure out why he was bleeding so much. "The demons, the, you I mean, you within the original fallen angels, you fell because you no longer followed the word of the Lord, right?" Aziraphale was wiping at his head trying to stem the bleeding. 

Crowley chewed his lip. This wasn't something they talked about, but if there was a time to talk about it then it was now. "Yes. Well, kind of. I fell as a subject of peer pressure and loose morals. All the cool kids were doing it." Crowley finally looked down to his palms which had turned red and blistered from holding onto the consuming fire. 

Aziraphale gave him a small grin. "Well, I've been kicked out of heaven. I can feel it. But I still follow the Lord, so I...I am still an angel. I have my grace. They can't force me to fall any further."

"I guess so." Crowley materialized a towel and pressed it against Aziraphale's head to help with the blood. "Why is your head bleeding did you crack your halo? What's going on here?" 

Aziraphale laughed again. A horrible relief was starting to wash over him. Not a demon. Fallen but not forsaken. Oh, he loved his creator with all his being and would continue to do so. He didn't need heaven to love the Lord. The blood though, Crowley was asking about the blood. 

"It's my crown."

"What?" 

"My- I'm a principality. I have a crown. On the-" he waved his hand around a little dramatically, "-celestial plane. Or whatever. Where we put our wings."

"Your crown is bleeding?"

"My crown is broken. Heaven has officially fired me, I'm not a principality any more." 

Were he to become a demon Aziraphale could easily see the crown twisting itself to become a great wreath of horns like the other fallen principalities. He knew what they looked like. He knew the kind of beast he would become if he continued his fall someday. 

He sat up and brought himself as fully into the physical plane as he could. His wings unfolded behind him and his crown fell heavy and sharp against his head. Eyes scattered themselves against his form and the tattered edges of a burnt celestial robe hung from his frame. 

He was glad Crowley had invited him to bed the night before. Had they not Known each other he might have been wearing clothes, or worse not been in a demon's fireproofed bed at all. He loathed what would have happened if the heat had consumed him in his bookshop. It was mere luck Adam was able to fix it once. 

He pulled at the weight of the broken iron crown only to find it had affixed itself against him. Melted and Tangled in his downy hair. It was bleeding because it was a part of him now. No wonder they became fearsome horns. "How are my wings?" He finally asked, looking down at his body to Inspect any changes.

"They're burnt. Still white. Sort of." Crowley hesitantly brushed his burnt hands against one and felt the ashen edges of them crumble under his touch. "They're going to fall apart if you move them much."

"That's to be expected, I think. Oh…" he voice trailed off sadly as he opened his peripheral eyes and found most of them now blind. "I never used these eyes but... it's so strange to not be able to see." 

"You do get used to it. Eventually." Crowley ran a comforting hand over Aziraphale's back, picking off the burnt feathers. 

"How long did it take you?" Aziraphale asked. He closed the blind eyes and banished them back to the ether. He left the wings and the crown for now, needing to make sure they were alright before being sent away.

"Well, it's hard to say. You're not in hell so it won't be the same. You got the burns of the banishment, but you don't really seem to have much else in common with me. You don't have a mark of the beast because you're not aligned with Satan. And you won't have the rot from the sulphur pools. Honestly the worst part was the landing, smashed my hips in that, but since you didn't take a physical fall you don't have to worry about that either." Crowleys hands were swiftly cleaning off the wings, leaving large bare patches where the fire had eaten through. 

"Can I ask what you were, then?" Aziraphale finally replied. "After all this time, it seemed...rude to bring it up. I can't imagine a better time than now though."

Crowley stilled his hands and sighed. "I was a power. I worked under Raphael making stars. It was such a long time ago, you must believe me when I say I don't remember much."

"I do believe it. You know I...I do not remember so much of when I lived in heaven? Maybe that's why I...maybe...I feel I should be more upset about this than I am but frankly I'm having a hard time caring so much."

Crowley wrapped a gentle concerned arm around him and laid Aziraphale back out on the bed. "You should rest." Aziraphale could feel Crowley inspecting the bleeding crown, his dainty fingers pushing the hair away to see where it cut into him and melted against his scalp. "You can dematerialize this, right?" He finally asked

"I'm sure I can. I've only ever brought it out twice before. I want to make sure it's healed before I send it away though. It won't heal in the ether."

"I suppose not." Crowley placed a kiss on Aziraphale's forehead. 

"Oh Crowley your hands!" Aziraphale grabbed Crowley by the wrist to see the burns he had inflicted on him. "Let me heal this."

Crowley let himself be manipulated, "Can you?" 

The only answer was the skin knitting itself back to normal. Crowley was pleased to find whatever Aziraphale was drawing on now for his powers didn't have the sting of heaven attached to it. It wasn't heavenly, but it was Aziraphale. "Doesn't even hurt."

"That's a bit more tiring than it used to be." The angel sighed. 

Crowley rubbed a soothing hand against Aziraphale's chest, finally getting rid of the burnt celestial gown in the process. "You're not drawing your power from heaven, I can feel it. You may have to take it slow for a bit."

Aziraphale nodded, "of course."

\--

They laid there for a good hour, letting Aziraphale recuperate. "What do I call myself?" He finally asked.

"Hm?" Came the reply of a demon that had nearly drifted to sleep with his head pressed against a soft bosom. 

"Am I still an angel? Without heaven behind me?" 

"I'd reckon so. What else would you be? A demon? You're not a demon."

"Not yet." 

Crowley snorted at that. "Nah, if this didn't get you then nothing will. You won't be a demon. You're just a little Earth angel now."

"Well, as long as I have you I think I can handle that."

Crowley wanted to reply that Aziraphale could have handled this even if he wasn't here. The angel was far stronger than the demon could ever hope to be. He kept his mouth shut though because he knew what kind of issues talking like that would bring up. He placed his head back on Aziraphale's chest and sighed. "I think I can handle it too."

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on Twitter @birbteef
> 
> I don't know why I've written two fics now about Aziraphale's crown, I'm just kind of taken with the idea of him having one. I like the idea of the aspects they have as angels twistting into their demonic counterparts. Crowleys a snake because he spent so much time alone in the frigid depths of space all he wanted when he fell was to be warm and now haha dude jokes on you. I have ideas for a demon Aziraphale fic but I'll likely never do anything with them.


End file.
